Hating Each Other
by madelinesticks
Summary: Based upon some RPs I did, this is a fic that's the Greek God Apollo paired with Lucifer. Apollo is righteous where Apollo is not. It'll eventually end up being Apollo and Gabriel. TW for abusive relationship, as well as some other unpleasant situations, including alcohol and drug abuse and (consensual) sex.
1. Chapter 1

Lucifer watched from the doorway of the bar, cautiously stepping in. The man on stage was dressed in skin-tight jeans and an even tighter shirt that showed off his midriff, half-gyrating on stage as he sung some, obscene human melody.  
When he finished, receiving much applause, he gave a bow that Lucifer took as slightly mocking, and left the stage. Lucifer scowled at him as he came out into the bar, moving straight up to the barman and ordering two bottles of a clear, green-tinged liquid that did not look edible. Now that The Devil saw him close up, he realised that the form before him was recognisable.  
"Pagan." He spat. Apollo looked up, narrowed his eyes at the Morningstar.  
"Angel." He hissed right back. "What are you doin' in Chicago?"  
Lucifer just stuck out a forked tongue, making the pagan roll his eyes as he poured himself a tall glass from the first bottle and moved to take a table. Lucifer slid into the chair across from him, watching the pitiful creature down a glass of the stuff before giving a satisfied exhalation.  
Apollo swiftly finished both bottles with Lucifer watching, a mix of horrified fascination and disgust on the Morningstar's face. Apollo stood, not even swaying for his drink, but seeming to have a slight buzz on.  
"C'mon then." He muttered, shooting Lucifer a nasty smirk. "If you think you're hot enough." It was a jibe. Apollo did not want Lucifer to follow. He did not want to fuck the Devil.  
Lucifer didn't care.  
He followed the pagan and, as the smaller man turned the corner into the hall where, presumably, his room was located, he caught the back of his shirt, half-throwing Apollo against the wall. Initially, the pagan gave a soft sound as Lucifer held him back by the shoulder, but then he started kissing Lucifer back, arching against his mouth.  
His lips were surprisingly soft, the God's skin hot and dry under Lucifer's touch. His hair wasn't messy enough, so Lucifer tangled a hand in the blond curls and pulled, making Apollo emit a tiny sound he was pretty sure constituted as a whimper.  
"I'm gonna tear you apart." Lucifer promised, the sound a low growl. Apollo was unperturbed. He thrust his hips forwards, rolling them against the Fallen angel's.  
"Hurry up then." He hissed back, arching to bite hard at Lucifer's neck. The Devil gave a soft grunt, grabbing Apollo by the hair once again and dragging him down the hall, kicking open the door marked with his name and slamming it shut behind them.  
He actually threw Apollo onto the bed, ignoring the creak of the wood. Apollo attempted to take control when Lucifer joined him on the bed, straddling the other's waist and leaning to nip at his skin, forcefully pulling his head back to force Satan to bare his neck. For a short time, Lucifer indulged the pagan.  
Then, with an animalistic sound, he flipped them, kissing Apollo in a fashion that was, once again, more a battle for dominance than anything else, with clashing tongues and teeth and bruised and bitten lips.  
"Thought you were going to fuck me, angel." Apollo muttered against Lucifer's lips. The Morningstar rolled his hips down against the others.  
"Patience, pagan whore." He vanished his own clothes out of a sense of dignity and self-importance. Furthering that whim, he ripped Apollo's clothes from his body, tearing his shirt and breaking the button on his jeans as he stripped him. The actions gave him a sense of smug satisfaction, knowing that Apollo would have those clothes ruined.  
Lucifer would dip to nip and suckle over Apollo's skin, marking him up and leaving bites and bruises and cuts in a childish fit of ruining the God for others. He drew a sense of glee from ruining the mostly-perfect expanse of Apollo's skin, relishing the marks he left and hoping they would scar. Reaching his chest, Lucifer scowled for a moment, tracing clawed marks over Apollo's chest.  
That drew a yelp from the God, and momentarily he struggled desperately, as though to get away. Lucifer just shot him a glare and he went still, but pushed the other's hands off his chest. Lucifer huffed. He began to idly stroke over Apollo's skin, enjoying the smooth feel of it and the raised lines of the muscle beneath. His hands were freezing to the touch, but he didn't care, even when Apollo made whines that were plainly intended as complaints.  
Lucifer quickly sucked his fingers before pressing them into the God, making him give a loud yelp but then spread his legs further like the slut he was. Lucifer was rough, rapid and efficient, unwilling to spend too much time on Apollo's preparation: it was enough to ensure the God wouldn't tear and that, far more importantly, Lucifer would be comfortable.  
When he fucked into the God for the first time, the smaller man's moans were gratifying to say the least. Apollo arched and scrabbled at the sheets for purchase, wanting more.  
Lucifer was cold to the touch, but now he realised that Apollo had gotten hotter, his skin almost burning as the pagan's cheeks and chest flushed a scarlet red. Lucifer allowed his true cold to come out, blowing icy breath over Apollo's skin. The pagan gave a cat-like yowl and actually set his own skin on fire, flames flickering over the tan of it and licking at Lucifer's own. The ice that had begun to settle on Lucifer's skin melted and steamed as he fucked Apollo hard into the mattress, only for more to appear.  
The God was burning, but he didn't care, arching and seeming to be unfeeling of the flame on his skin. When he came, he pressed up in the most desperate, needy fashion Lucifer had ever seen, a new burst of flame emitted that made Lucifer growl with pleasure, but the Fallen angel continued to fuck him hard, until Apollo was whining and begging for the overstimulation to stop.  
When Lucifer came, he pulled back and out of Apollo, standing at the foot of the bed and just staring at the other. For a second, the smaller man continued to burn, but then the flames puttered out to leave him dazed and slightly smoking on the bed. The bedsheets were fine, though they were wet in some places. Lucifer shook his head, sending shards of ice onto the floor.  
Apollo blinked slowly to stare at Lucifer. They stayed like that, both breathing heavy as they glared at each other, thinking of flaws, of new reasons to hate the other's guts.  
Then Lucifer threw himself forwards and onto the bed again, where Apollo immediately spread his legs in invitation.


	2. Chapter 2

When Gabriel came in the door, Lucifer was not alone. His brother was in the kitchen, messing around with pots and pans. He seemed to be making some sort of pasta sauce, but Gabriel tended to avoid his elder brother when he worked in the kitchen, all the same.  
On the couch, laid out with closed eyes, a lack of shirts and insufferably tight looking jeans was a blond, his legs crossed over so that his boots were together on the end armrest of the sofa. He had one hand behind his head, the other holding a rolled joint in his hand. Gabriel wrinkled his nose.  
"Brother." Lucifer greeted lightly. The man's eyes opened and he glanced at the archangel with lazy eyes. The man's own eyes were green and brightly shining in the light, pupils dilated, and Gabriel couldn't help but stare at his face for a moment. "This is Apollo."  
"Geia sas." Apollo purred, offering a toothy grin.  
"Pagan, huh, bro? Got over your issues?"  
"He's a good fuck."  
"I am." Apollo agreed, closing his eyes again and taking a slow drag from the joint. Gabriel scowled at the roll of white and the rings of smoke Apollo blew from his mouth, but left him be.  
When Lucifer left to get some spice or other from the market, he settled in the armchair.  
"You do know who he is, right?"  
"That's right." Apollo nodded, sitting up and running a hand through his mussed curls. "Lucifer. Bringer of Light. Morningstar. The brightest of all angels and yet the coldest still." Gabriel blinked at him.  
"Apologies. I'm a poet at heart." Apollo made the joke with a dry smile, and Gabriel felt like yelling at him for how much the smile looked fake and forced.  
"He'll hurt you."  
"He already has." Apollo grinned, but now the smile was genuine and Gabriel felt like hitting him as he shifted, showing off the bites and bruises and iceburns across his tanned chest. Gabriel felt sick.  
"He hates you, ya know." Gabriel muttered. "Hates pagans."  
"I hate him." Apollo confessed, shrugging his shoulders. "I am a God of honesty, of plague but also healing. I'm righteous, I believe in ensuring the health of humans, Gods, faeries, angels all alike." He shrugged once again. "This is not a union built on a platform like love or trust, Gabriel. We're built on hate. And it's hot and icy and terrifying: we're hungry for each other, in a way."  
Gabriel scowled again.  
"It's about the sex and the control. Or lack thereof, in my case." Apollo offered another smile, this one wry and slightly self-deprecating. "I like it. He likes it, for now. We'll go like this."  
"If you're like this high, how are you when you're down and sober?"  
Apollo grinned, another self-hating expression, forced. He was good at faking it, but Gabriel was all about lies. "I'm not often down or sober."  
That made Gabriel suddenly very unhappy, distinctly unsettled. He wanted to save this stupid pagan, wanted to try and convince him he was worth more, but fuck it. He wasn't some family talk show host with open arms and a big heart.  
"Why not?" He asked, but the question came out dully. Lucifer returned though, and Apollo just shrugged and turned away, falling asleep on the couch.  
Later, Lucifer picked him up and just threw him over his shoulder like a doll, carrying him to the bedroom. Gabriel had to soundproof his room in order to go without hearing Apollo's moans of pleasure and pain, and the satisfied grunts of his elder brother.  
The next day, Apollo limped and had to grip at the counter as he made Lucifer breakfast, and Gabriel wanted to order him to go back to bed and make Lucifer get his own damn food. He didn't do that.  
He watched Apollo, tried to help out as best he could, but the God didn't really want it. Lucifer appeared in the doorway and Apollo easily handed him a plate of pancakes. Lucifer did not thank him, but had a soft smile on his face as he settled in the living room to eat. Apollo hid it from the Morningstar, but on his face was the brightest of grins. Gabriel felt kind of sick to his stomach. But hey, it was Apollo's life, not his. He couldn't decide how the God was gonna lead it.

He changed his mind that very evening, when Lucifer asked to see Apollo's wings and the God looked ready to drop to his knees and beg to keep them hidden. Lucifer did not give him chance to do so. Instead, he crossed his arms and looked at Apollo expectantly. Gabriel nearly hit his brother in the face.


	3. Chapter 3

Apollo slowly removed his shirt as Gabriel growled a "No! If you don't want to, you're not going to!"  
Apollo just froze and stared at Gabriel, shell-shocked.  
"Apollo." Lucifer muttered, fixing him with a careful stare. Apollo put his shirt aside, turned, and let them out.  
They were pretty, Gabriel thought. He couldn't help but stare at the sea-green sheen of them, the way the feathers were neatly arranged, thick and of considerable plumage. He stared as Apollo spread them slightly, entranced and wanting to touch and pet, but staying back. Apollo was shivering where he stood, plainly insecure and nervous.  
Lucifer evidently had no such qualms. He stepped forwards, tangling a hand in the feathers and combing through. Apollo gave a quiet, desperate little whine.  
"They are very pretty." Lucifer said lightly, grinning to himself as he stroked through the smaller man's plumage, delighted as a child finding a previously unknown function on a well-loved toy. But, hey. That was what Apollo was to Lucifer anyway, Gabriel thought.  
Apollo gave a short, cut-off sound.  
"You think they're ugly?" Lucifer asked, tilting his head. "Hmph." He began to massage the muscle of the wings, and Apollo gave a desperate little cry and dropped to his knees, leaving Lucifer with wide-eyes, blinking at him.  
"Haven't had them touched. In a long time." Apollo whispered, half-brokenly in more of a whimper than in a proper speaking voice.  
"Come to the bedroom." Apollo hesitated. But then he did, letting Lucifer lead him.  
Gabriel heard him moaning that night. Heard him begging Lucifer for more, heard him crying out in pleasure rather than the pleasure-pain of before.  
He didn't like that. He didn't want Apollo hurt, but neither did he want Lucifer touching him, because Lucifer did not view Apollo as a person. He was a toy. And while Lucifer now wanted to play with Apollo's wings and make the God write in pleasure and plead to be fucked, tomorrow he could cut them apart and have Apollo sobbing desperately at his feet.  
Now, Apollo was slumped over Lucifer's lap in the living room, two empty bottles of absinthe on the table. Lucifer gently stroked his spine as Apollo mumbled nonsense in his drunken bliss, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed.  
He looked stupidly happy, and Gabriel couldn't help but hate that. Lucifer would hurt Apollo, had hurt him. It wasn't fair for him to think the bastard was good.  
Gabriel wouldn't interfere, of course. Would never tell Apollo this - it was the God's life to lead, not his.  
He made a face as he found small papers on the counter, looking back to Lucifer.  
"Apparently LSD is a fun activity." Lucifer merely shrugged. "He said a blowjob made him feel colours."  
Gabriel felt sick.  
"Yeah." He muttered weakly. He moved out of the room, stripping once down the corridor and sliding into his own bed. He tried very hard to not think about the tortured God in the other room, tried not to wonder why Apollo was so eager to become the pet, the object, of Satan himself.  
They fucked again. Loudly. Damn loudly and, to Lucifer's credit, Apollo did give whimpers about the colours.  
Gabriel vomited and then went back to sleep. His brother, his own brother, disgusted him. But he would not interfere. He wouldn't. He would not.  
Even if a lot of the time, he wanted to punch Lucifer. Set him alight and kick the living shit out of him, trap him in the worst of possible illusions and make him hurt.  
But he wouldn't.  
Never.


	4. Chapter 4

Apollo was coughing. He didn't look well. In fact, he looked positively grim and green. He stumbled as he came into the apartment, and Gabriel stared at him as he gripped at the counter to keep from falling. Gabriel gave a soft, concerned sound and darted forwards, catching the God before he stumbled again and supporting him over to the couch, where Apollo sprawled.  
"Are you okay?" He asked, nervous and biting his lip. Apollo was a God. A Greek God but... Well. Gods didn't get sick, did they? He'd never seen a God sick in all his time masquerading as Loki but then, what God would reveal a weakness like that?  
"No. Sickness goin' around. Treated Anansi in the Clinic a few days back, now Eros has got it - he fucks everyone that fucking moves, so now everyone probably has it. Ninazu's taking over for me - think he's immune." Apollo gave an unpleasant cough, and Gabriel saw the phlegm hit his hand with some disgust, as well as sympathy. He tapped Apollo's eyes, drawing attention from his bleary eyes. With a wave of Gabriel's hand, the couch became a bed, soft and warm and completely luxurious.  
Apollo gave a yelp at the way he was suddenly wrapped in blankets. The one he was sat on was warm. Apollo gave a soft sound, relaxing a little. Gabriel offered him a smile. "I'll- I'll make you some cocoa, okay? And uh, did Ninazu give you pills or anything?"  
He set tissues by the bed, along with a glass of water. "Anything you want." He added. "You're sick: you need to be coddled."  
Apollo stared at Gabriel, the idea of being taken care of apparently distinctly foreign to him. "N-no, it's okay, I just- I can deal-"  
"No." Gabriel said firmly. "You will be taken care of. It's no fun trying to do stuff when you're sick." Or at least, Gabriel assumed. He didn't know, himself. Apollo opened and closed his mouth, staring at the archangel.  
"M-may I have cinnamon in the cocoa?" He asked in the tiniest of voices. Gabriel beamed brightly.  
"Yes. Yes you can."  
He ended up making Apollo soup, too. He put on one of the nature documentaries Apollo liked, convinced Apollo's argumentative parrot, Rika, to curl against his neck and keep him warm. If only Gabriel could hold Apollo himself, but no, damn it. He wasn't gonna let himself get into that again.  
Lucifer had Apollo, and Apollo adored Lucifer.  
Gabriel hated that even more when Lucifer came home. He fixed Apollo with a disgusted stare as he sneezed and coughed.  
"Is it contagious?"  
"Yes." Apollo mumbled, cheeks flushing as he seemed ashamed for his weakness. "Not for angels though. Just Gods."  
"You are not a God." Lucifer growled, and Apollo flinched.  
"Sorry." He mumbled.  
"Make me a tortilla." Lucifer ordered before moving to storm past and into the bedroom. Well. Someone had had a bad day at work.  
"He isn't doing that." Gabriel hissed as Apollo moved to get up. The God froze, staring at the archangels as they moved to face each other. "He's sick. He's ill, and he needs rest to get better. He isn't there to make you food and be a toy for you to fuck."  
Lucifer raised his eyebrows, standing straighter as he glared at his brother. Gabriel felt himself automatically puff his small form up, shoulders shifting - were his wings out, they'd be spread and aggressively stanced. "Don't you fucking care?"  
Lucifer shot Apollo a cold look before turning back to Gabriel. "You don't want him to? You make me a tortilla." He left the room, and Gabriel wanted to freaking stab him. As it stood, he knocked a vase to the ground, half relishing the satisfying smash of glass. He felt guilty when he realised Apollo was looking at him with the same fear he did Lucifer, and nearly felt his heart drop from his chest cavity.  
He felt ill again at the thought of Apollo being scared of him.  
"Sorry." He muttered, fixing it with a wave of his hand. He ended up making Lucifer the tortilla, nearly threw the plate at his elder brother.  
Later, he sat on the couch with Apollo as they watched a late-night marathon of Doctor Sexy.  
"Why him?" Gabriel asked, unable to hold it back. "Ninazu is a nice guy. You could date him. Anyone else. Why Lucifer? He just- he treats you this way and I don't get how you can deal with it."  
Apollo whispered something. Gabriel wished he hadn't heard it, wished and wished he could forget it. But no. No, he did hear, and the words were eternally burned into his memory.  
"He's all I deserve."


	5. Chapter 5

Apollo was lying on the floor when Gabriel came home. The couch, the coffee table, all the living room furniture had been moved out of the way. He was surrounded by bottles. All the curtains were pulled shut and charmed for extra darkness, and for once, he heard no music at all. Apollo whimpered as he opened the door, shaking.  
"Apollo?" The God winced, clutching at his head with his hands gripping tightly at his own thick, blond hair. Gabriel moved forwards, but with each step he took Apollo gave a twitch. "What- what happened?"  
"Visions." Lucifer said dryly, a bottle in his own hand. It wasn't the stuff Apollo drank - pure, magicked alcohol in the form of a particularly illegal absinthe - but a bottle of fine Bordeaux. "Apparently these little whores get them even worse than ours do when they see the future. Of course, I doubt he gets them from Metatron or Father. Probably from the little sluts on that mountain."  
Apollo's eyes were tightly shut, but Gabriel knew he heard every single word. "Lucifer, shut up. Have you tried to help him?"  
"Help him?" Lucifer repeated, giving a derisive snort of sound. "Why would I do that?"  
"Because he's in pain? Because he's basically your pet?" Gabriel spat the last word, but either Lucifer did not notice or did not care. The Devil gave a slight shrug, completely uncaring in his stance and expression.  
"You take care of him. Like this, he can't fuck, can't cook, can't sing and entertain. What fun is he to me?" Gabriel thought about the archangel blade on him, thought about grasping the hilt in his hand and taking his fiery sword of justice to Lucifer's chest, to stab it through his ribs and tear apart his vessel's heart, to see him fall back on the floor with the shadow of his wings burned out on the ground around him.  
He didn't do that. He rushed to Apollo, carefully pulling him up and supporting him so that the larger man could lean on his shoulder, so that he could take him to his own bedroom. Apollo gave a mewl at the bright of Gabriel's wide window - Gabriel loved to feel the sun on his face in the early morning, loved how big the room felt with such a view visible from his bed or his desk - and the archangel swiftly pulled the curtains closed with a casual snap of his fingers.  
He pulled Apollo onto the bed, wrapping him in blankets. He stared at the God for a moment, sympathy plain on his features and in the way he held himself. "Can I get you anything?" He asked in a tiny voice.  
"My b-bedside table. Pills, big, green. And drink." Apollo whimpered. Gabriel nearly ran, flitting through the apartment for another bottle and the pills Apollo had asked for. He couldn't help but grimace as Apollo swallowed two of the powder filled capsules, washing them down with a hearty swig of the absinthe.  
Gabriel had tried it once. It had burned the throat of his vessel, made HIM, an archangel, splutter. Apollo was too used to his strength, he knew. Gabriel racked his brain, trying to think of how he comforted ill people, but no. Apollo's migraines were like nothing he knew, and the only time he'd ever really comforted the sick and injured had been when he was still up in Heaven, when he'd taken care of younger fledglings. But then...  
Gabriel took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the door. He pulled off his shirt too, running a slightly nervous hand through his hair. He glanced to Apollo when he was shirtless, but the God didn't really see him. He was dazed and swaying, eyes tightly closed once again. Gabriel moved slowly on the bed, pushing the blankets from the God's naked shoulders - he was naked but for his pyjama pants - and wrapped himself around the God, holding him tight and having Apollo lean back with his back resting on Gabriel's chest.  
Putting his hands over Apollo's eyes, Gabriel released his best set of wings. The feathers were thick and golden, with only a few battle scars. Gabriel curled them in, surrounding both him and the God.  
Apollo gave a soft sound, hands moving to grasp Gabriel's hands tightly.  
"You're okay." Gabriel whispered softly, curling his wings in as tightly as he could, so the pretty feathers brushed Apollo's shoulders. "You're okay."


End file.
